Lyracs Lyrics

[Verse 1]

I sit alone in my grandmothers home

Writin' poems in the zone, cause i don't want to know what's out there

Cause' out there niggas' watchin, plottin'

Jockin' hottin' is not an option

Makin' beats on my laptop possessed by J.Dilla

If i don't calm down, i can be a straight killer

Just tryna make scrilla' album wise, make thriller

I ate gorillas, i'm beastin what a great feelin'

But with the slightest budge, i can move

Feelin' like that talkin' bout' me on club comic view

If such is true then, what the fuck ima do?

Cops got they eye on me, fuck ima do?

Dialo ain't got nothin' on Diablo, dead ass

Fed up, fed last tryna get stead fast

Hard to accept that niggas got they eye on me

They not tryin' me but all they do is spy on me

[Chorus]

I must look good or somethin'

Never seen a punk rocker in the hood or somethin'

They bad at bein' real but they good for frontin'

So what's good, you want me to go wood or somethin?

And what y'all niggas lookin' at? huh? (x4)

Huh?! Huh!? Huh!?

[Verse 2]

Park benches, Charles gettin' hard splinters

In his head when he wake up, no converses

No soft splinters

Y'all niggas think shit is okay

Till' I flip and OJ and turn this to Nicole day

No way, tell them niggas go play

I need a fast break like a give and go play

Pickin' rolled j's stocked in malone days

Only piece of mind i see, is in Simone face

But groupies get reckless, in Simone's face

This is no game, I'm pissed at those dames

The cloud rains down cause the shit is so gray

I paid my fuckin' dues but i ain't gettin' no pay

My records run the streets, but i ain't gettin' no play

Asked God what's goin on, but the nigga won't say

Shit, he become mute at his old age

Lookin' at my wrist bouta get the old blade

But...

[Verse 3]

Another nigga need a favor, a bitch need the flavor

My church is refuges temple but im feelin even greater

Can't go back cause them niggas don't relate to

A rookie ball player bouta make it to the majors

I used to be the good boy that plays the organ

Now they lookin at me funny like im tracy morgan

Shit, another name bringin back some fuckin pain

I lost everything it really aint enough to gain

I walk a thin line all the time just to sprain

My ankles so i can walk on an angle

Far from an angel, heart full of danger

Father's a stranger, mom is a gamer

Tryna catch a break when i catch a contract

Ma thats whack, for that catch a contact

Can i live? I guess the fuck not

Stressed the fuck out

But blessed with such doubt

Whatever man...